


& set this house on fire

by kymericl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kymericl/pseuds/kymericl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Jumping to her feet, cheering loudly for Slytherin as realisation creeps in: she’d rather see the Quaffle stopped than the Snitch caught.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	& set this house on fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leigh_adams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/gifts).



> written for the Winter 2011-2012 Fic Exchange on Rare Pair Shorts.

_I._

Jumping to her feet, cheering loudly for Slytherin as realisation creeps in: she’d rather see the Quaffle stopped than the Snitch caught.  
She claps harder.

  
_II._

The game under darkness: everything below is a blur, everything above an expanding ceiling. New heights, new hopes. Anything seems possible.  
He doesn’t notice her.

  


_III._  
He’s a mess after practice. His Prefect badge haphazardly placed. An afterthought? She doesn’t know. She tells herself she doesn’t actually care.  
Why would she?

  
_IV._  
 _She looks pretty_. The worrying part is he doesn’t notice until he’s thinking it. Thoughts like that shouldn’t be associated with her.  
She’s a _Slytherin_.

  
_V._  
Her heart is conflicted but her expectations are high. Should she care that he’s beneath her status?  
The people within her social group say ‘yes’.

  
_VI._  
He isn’t expecting the rumours when they start. The situation amuses him, but the Slytherin table is silent and judging.  
He doesn’t stifle his laugh.

  
_VII._  
The situation is humourless to her. The accusatory glares keep her silent and distant. She shouldn’t have said anything.  
Detrimental results from a hypothetical statement.

  
_VIII._  
He takes precautions against confronting his feelings. He prolongs the procrastination until the rest of Gryffindor have decided for him: the rumours are false.  
 _Right?_

  
_IX._  
Things return to a semblance of its former normality; the tension is tolerable. People talk, the Houses compete.  
It’s as if nothing at all happened.

  
_X._  
Clouds drift away, the rain dries out, a conscious effort is made to deny acknowledgement of past events. She wonders if...  
Not knowing is torment.

  
_XI._  
He stays late after practice. The wind drowns out most noise and his pounding heart eliminates the rest.  
Up here none of his problems exist.

  
_XII._  
She’s aware she goes unnoticed, but isn’t insulted. The patterns he traces across the sky soothe her.  
She imagines a coherency to the nonsensical designs.

  
_XIII._  
The patterns say something about his future that he refuses to address, too afraid to analyse the story unfolding.  
Slipping over one another, lazily entwining.

  
_XIV._  
Every hitch of a breath, every stutter over a word, every increased heartbeat could be a warning sign.  
She’ll make a note of it all.

  
_XV._  
On most days he claims apathy. He’s altering the truth but people are too distracted to take note of it.  
One girl is paying attention.

  
_XVI._  
He sees her before he notices her, but when he notices her, he stops. Her sudden closeness lets him register that he’s moved.  
Albeit belatedly.

  
_XVII._  
There are theories she’s had, things she’s wondered. She knows that such private moments are rare.  
Now is an apt time to test those theories.

  
_XVIII._  
Something’s in the air. The whole castle is brimming with this new secret. Most of the student population collectively roil against it.  
Dynamics begin shifting.

  
_XIX._  
Should he feel guilty or liberated? He can’t decide. So he does both, with apathy set as his default.  
Sweet lies constructed with ersatz happiness.

  
_XX._  
Rumours stampede over staircases, unprompted but constantly changing. Houses built from sugarcubes eventually dissolve; they can only withstand so much.  
She steps around the puddles.

  
_XXI._  
History says: this is the enemy, know her well. But not that well. He’s conflicted, building up boundaries just to knock them down.  
Limits disappear.

  
_XXII._  
When things get physical it always ends in one of two ways. It’s not violent until someone is bleeding.  
She’s never considered a third option.

  
_XXIII._  
The bruises don’t mean anything to him, not in the way people assume. He’s received worse from friendly matches.  
They tell him to just leave.

  
_XXIV._  
She catches people watching her. Seeing the scars they think ‘torments’ and imagine insanity. They can’t appreciate the genius of their relationship.  
She’s not surprised.

  
_XXV._  
It gets to the point where they are unaware of their actions. Scratching and biting and pinching until they’re satisfied.  
He’s numb to it all.

  
_XXVI._  
She has mixed feelings when she’s not around him. When they’re together every nothing-fight drives him further away.  
It’s a cycle they can’t break.

  
_XXVII._  
They get back together when the rage dissipates and the sensation of drowning fades along with it. People warn them it’s dangerous.  
They don’t listen.

  
_XXVIII._  
Despite limitless aims, he shows restraint. As things speed up he holds at his current position.  
In time he’ll get where he needs to be.

  
_XXIX._  
Scepticism doesn’t suit him, neither does absolute optimism. He claims it’s realism but she doesn’t believe him.  
Still, they both know there’s no real rush.

  
_XXX._  
His patience leads him to a zugzwang. If there is a bright side, he’s not seeing it.  
How much longer can they keep this up?

  
_XXXI._  
With no endgame in sight, precise movements turn sloppy. She throws away the rulebook and rearranges the stars.  
She decides what the patterns will be.

  
_XXXII._

Each well-timed glare is another lie. With a standing ovation the blindfolded Houses cheer.  
Every version is altered, but it always ends in flames.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve said it several times already, but I’ll say it again: lokifan, thank you so much for all your help and patience while beta-reading this fic. Thank you to fiery_flamingo, whose detailed answers to my vague questions helped me finally decide how to approach this fic. & thank you agapi42, for tolerating my panic-induced texts and prompting me when I couldn’t figure out how to continue.


End file.
